The Prison Guard
by INeedCoffeeArghhh
Summary: Convict Christophe is hooked on the breath-taking blond guard. Wanting to be nearer, he ensures he ends up in solitary confinement. Then the fun can begin... (Part Two added! - two-shot)
1. The Prison Guard

_A/N: Slightly AU, in that they didn't know each other as children... or I guess they could have just forgotten, your choice._

_Warning: swearing, **smut** and minor violence. Seems to be a reoccurring thing with me..._

* * *

Williams, Officer Williams is his name and he's been the focus of my life for the past six months. You'd understand why if you saw him.

I've just found out that he works in solitary confinement; the reason I've never met him. I catch glimpses of him, gazing at his breathtaking beauty and noting his superior attitude, acting as if he's made of gold. Those glimpses make life here bearable, but it's been six months of glimpses and nothing more. The few moments of looking at him drive me into a frenzy, and then I spend the rest of my time picturing what I've seen of him. There's not much else to do in prison. Everyone in here leaves me alone. They know better than to start a fight with the Mole (a broken arm and a lot of blood for the guy who tried).

Seeing him, seeing me in the showers that day did it. I can only assume that there'd been an emergency and he'd been called on to keep watch. He stood there boldly leaning against the wall: arms crossed and hat slanted, eyes glistening mischievously. He looked like he was doing a photo shoot for one of those 'men in uniform' calendars (I'd buy one, but only if he was every month). Fuck that face. Fuck that body. What an undeniably sexy prison guard. I felt strangely more on show that day than any other, even though I'm always surrounded by prying in-mates. I could feel his eyes probing over me, without even looking I could sense the pleased smirk on his face. When I turned in flustered annoyance to make eye-contact with him, he winked. That faggot actually winked at a prisoner in the showers!

He noticed me.

So that's when I knew what I needed to do.

I _needed_ to get myself into solitary confinement. I_ had_ to be nearer him.

It was easy enough. The fastest way was to cause a fight, not a big enough one that anybody died, but not too small or else the guards wouldn't care. I approached my target, well targets; one person wouldn't have created a big enough show. It was one of those prison gangs. The sharks? The Jets? Or am I thinking of West Side Story? I can just see the jazz hands now. Haunting.

...

Anyway they were named something faggy like that.

It wasn't hard to start a fight. I just had to stand in their way, refuse to move and call one or two of them cocksuckers. That's what happened and that's how three of them ended up unconscious on the ground through the faultless art of head-butting, (learn it, perfect it; the skull is a very hard and useful weapon, if executed correctly a single blow can leave them unconscious and you with a mere headache). The other member was the one I was in the process of beating up when I got dragged away. He'd avoided the head-butt but was unable to foresee the jab of my elbow (again, don't use the fists unless you have to).

It had been a success. I've been given isolation as a punishment, until they think I won't be a danger.

And that brings us to now, sat in solitary, where I can hear the promising sound of footsteps walking towards my completely isolated and shut off cell. I stand up from the bed I've been lying on and for some subconscious reason, straighten my posture as a key unlocks the cell. Why am I standing like this? I'm panicking...

He strolls in, calculating look on his face, giving away no emotions, only smugness. He walks towards me, carrying his body in the remarkably sensual way that he does. The way he walks makes me stare at his hips; even under his uniform I can tell they're incredible.

Damn that bitch God, he's even more fucking beautiful up close. I can't see a single imperfection. Strands of his glowing blond hair peep from under his slanted hat and shine with golden tinges, even in the sickening artificial light. His skin is royally pale, cheeks tinged slightly pink. His lips look so plump and soft. As he smiles I can see his teeth, perfectly straight and sparkling white. The rest of his features look quite masculine. He has a masculine nose, razor-sharp cheek bones and simple shaped bluest of the blue eyes. He has masculine features yet he looks so soft and feminine. I'm the opposite. I have big eyes with long lashes and a more rounded face, but nobody would look at me and think anything other than tough and manly.

Go figure.

Moving my eyes down I only wish I had x-ray vision because, fuck, I want to see what's under those clothes. An irresistible uniform makes me want to rip it off even more.

Did I mention he smells like I imagine a Prince would? I've never met a Prince but I think this is pretty fucking close. Not a modern one, the type they have in all the fairytales. You know, Prince Charming. Damn, this is him in the flesh._ This _is Prince Charming.

He's pretty fucking gay.

His words cut through the silence of my drooling. "So, I finally get to make the acquaintance of the Mole." He turns his back to me and pulls the door shut behind him. The pounding in my heart tells me to get excited, that this is promising...

I glare at him as he turns back around. "You're shutting yourself een wiz a prisoner?"

He points to his belt; once again I'm staring at his hips. "I have the gun." And that's so fucking sexy. Please hit me with it_._ I grunt, taking deep breath to stop myself from getting aroused. But then again... do you think he intended that to be an innuendo? I hope so. He makes his way further forward, we're face to face. He's taller. Those fucking long slender legs. "I was observing you in the shower."

"I noticed."

"Is that the reason you're here?" he cocks his head to one side. "To see me? I see you naked, you see me naked."

Yes.

"No."

"You started a fight for the fun of it?"

Non.

"Oui."

"You're lying. Don't think I haven't noticed the way you stare at me every time I'm around. I've heard you asking about me, what am I? 'Zat faggot of a blond guard.' Mmmm, very polite." He grins at me. "You've got a bit of a name for yourself in this prison, Mole... I don't like that name. I like your real name, _Christophe_. I'm going to call you that."

Call me whatever you want, just please take off your clothes.

"Ze way I stare at you?"

"Yes, like you're undressing me with your eyes." He smirks. I wonder how many years he spent perfecting that self-righteous arrogant expression, probably practised in front of the mirror, butt-naked. The fag. "You're doing it right this moment."

"...Well I wouldn't 'av to eef you'd take your clothes off instead."

He ignores me. "That accent is so sexy. You could say the most offensive things and it would all just sound like orgasms to me." Well that was a pretty bold thing to say.

And then it happens. His fingers make contact with my skin. They're so thin and hard yet the skin is so soft. He trails his hand down my face and I shiver beneath the touch. I can't believe my plan to get nearer him worked; regardless of this, I brush his hand away. "Get off me, faggot." Here's the thing, I don't want to seem like a complete slut. Besides: he's the officer, I'm the prisoner. I ought to be punished, not caressed...

He licks his lips seeing the challenge in my eyes. "What did you just call me?"

"I called you a faggot." I spit at his feet.

He slaps me sharp across the cheek in a delicious stinging moment. "You do not talk to me like that." He leans closer and whispers in my ear. "I am your officer. I can make your time in solitary very painful." God damn, I can feel his body giving off a warm glow, radiating his princely scent towards me.

My heart skips. "No you can't, you're weak. You probably only got this job because you offered your ass up to the chief." I make a move to trap him in my arms, spinning him round and bringing both of his wrists together behind his back. "See, you're in trouble now," I whisper into his neck, moving my lips under the collar to suck at the luscious skin.

He groans.

I feel a sharp pain in my stomach as his elbow makes contact, throwing me backwards. "No, I got this job because I always win." He kicks me, sending me falling to the floor. It's like his reflexes are even better than mine, or maybe I'm not trying very hard to resist. "I like to fuck any bastard that challenges me."

"Don't stop tradition on my account," I growl.

He bends down, crouching over me. "Can I translate that as 'fuck me officer, I'm a desperate and horny prisoner and we're all alone?'" He yanks me by my hair, pulling me up and holding me in place. "I didn't mean fuck in that way. I meant that I will fuck you up, but if you want butt sex then you're an even bigger faggot than I."

"No one could be a bigger faggot zan you," I hiss. "You watch people in ze shower."

He grins in my face. "No, I watch you in the shower." Leaning forwards he presses his lips to my jaw, biting on the skin, sucking on it forcefully. I groan. His fingers make short work of pulling my unattractive jumpsuit off. He purrs in approval, eyes trailing gleefully over my muscles, lingering on a tattoo, noticing my complete rock-hard arousal. "You're even more splendid up close." He runs his hand down my chest and I shiver again.

I'm completely naked and he's still completely clothed! This isn't fair!

In annoyance I knock his hat off. I can't believe that his hair is still so fucking neat. It's been under a hat for fuck's sake! As if he read my mind, he drops his slacks but somehow manages to keep the belt holding his gun and keys hovering over his hips. It's almost as if he had all this planned... I didn't think he could live up to how I imagined him, and he doesn't... it's much better. And God damn, it looks mouth-wateringly delectable. He grabs my hair and forces me to my knees in front of him, not that he'd really need to force me. I desperately attach my mouth to his member, sucking eagerly, because I don't even care if I look like a totally desperate faggot anymore.

I am a totally desperate faggot.

He gasps, bucking his hips forward into me, whilst also forcing my mouth further down. I splutter, choked by the forceful invasion.

He groans, fingers never leaving my hair. "If you want lubrication then take it." I do continue to take it because that's the best proposition I've ever heard. The taste and feel are amazing and I would on no account stop. In this moment I would happily suck him dry and forget about myself because I feel so privileged to be this close to him. I stifle a few uncontrollable groans from him until he's satisfied.

I think we've established who holds all the power.

He pushes me away and yanks me up by my hair. I feel that if he's not careful, I'm going to become bald very soon. Turning me around, he slams me hard against the wall. I hate that this action causes me to groan with pleasure. "Starting a fight was very naughty. You need to be punished in a way that you will learn." He whispers the words seductively in my ear, before pushing an invasive finger up by ass. The action makes me groan, shock and sparks running through my body as it jolts forward.

"Are you going to teach me a lesson?" I pant, rocking back on the finger, his thin, hard but soft finger.

A second gets introduced and I can feel myself being stretched, and fuck, I love it. "Yes, a very _hard_ lesson needs to be taught."

Is this like the faggy part in a fairytale where all my dreams come true? My dreams for the past six months at least. I'm not going to go as far as saying I've been waiting for this moment my whole entire life and that I may be in love with this blond bitch behind me. That is not what I'm saying...

I bite my lip as he withdraws his fingers and grips my hips tightly in one hand, the other running agonizingly slowly down my spine. My body is shaking is anticipation. I'm extremely aroused and desperate for it. I growl in annoyance, pushing backwards. "'Urry up, faggot." He laughs tunefully, pushing himself into me with one slow but forceful thrust. I gasp in relief and shock, muscles clenching at the welcome invasion. I take a deep breath accustoming myself.

He begins to drive himself in and out slowly, each movement transferring pain to pleasure, increasingly becoming more gratifying. He pushes the ecstasy around my body, forcing it to the deepest parts, sending my whole body to an intense paradise. I groan as he shifts his position and hits my prostate. The rush of sensation in my mind almost replicates a cocaine high. Close to overstimulation, heightened but not getting any for so long. I gasp, arching backwards into him, groaning, because all I want is more. I want him to fuck me harder. I can't articulate this through all the shivers and euphoria I'm on, but he seems to comprehend by groans, smashing into me harder. He hits my prostate again.

I scream, clawing at the cold wall. "Fuck!" I exclaim, sweat running down my back.

"Oh you like that?" He still sounds in control, but his words are a little shaky.

"Mmnn."

My muscles contract, his dick getting very tight inside me. I can hear his breath in my ear, becoming erratic. Musical groans play out of his mouth, each note dizzying, like hidden music that can never be replicated and only I will hear. So fucking sexy. With this thought, I reach my edge so soon, shooting my load over the wall. With a few more body shaking thrusts, he does the same, withdrawing and releasing a warm feeling over my back (that was strangely considerate of him).

He leans his head over my shoulder and kisses my cheek. I desperately turn my head so that our lips make contact, and hungrily kiss him, turning around and taking his face in my hands for a few perfect seconds, as we both pant from our orgasms.

He straightens up and I can see a blush in his cheeks. "I hope you've learnt your lesson."

I smile somewhat awkwardly. "Maybe next time we could teach you yours."

"There's going to be a next time is there?" He raises an eyebrow. "Be careful, you don't want to get sent here too often."

Oh yes, I really do. I kiss him again, running my hands through his hair, realising that I really am in love with him. I withdraw my lips again before he can. "Why are you a prison guard? You don't seem very... law-abiding."

He smiles at me. "Oh, I'm no prison guard. I'm an undercover mercenary. Being here is all part of my long and complex plan... the sex with you was just for fun though. Obeying the laws all the time can get very boring."

I have no idea whether to believe him or not but I don't care. He kisses me a final time, this one tinged with sadness, almost further longing, before pulling up his slacks and straightening his clothes. I pick his hat from off the floor and place it in that faggy slanted way on his head. "Zere we go, offizer." I don't know why I did that, it makes me blush.

He strokes his fingers down my cheek a final time. "Thank you, Christophe. I'll be in with your _dinner_ later." He turns and walks out of the cell, the look on his face like nothing ever happened.

Dinner hey...

I just got fucked by Prince Charming... does that make me Cinderella or something? Though, she probably didn't get fucked up the ass in a prison cell. I'm not out-ruling it, but it probably didn't happen. People would probably proclaim that is was disturbing children or some shit like that. The world's a fucked up place, people always find ways to fuck you up the ass. They should learn that early, like I did, and I turned out perfectly fine...

He shuts the door behind him and I hear his footsteps gradually walking away. I can just hear that he's walking like a self-satisfied fag.

Damn, I'll have to get sent here more often. Or maybe I'll break out and kidnap him? Or perhaps wait for my sentence to be over and then run away with him? Maybe I could leave behind a shoe, and then he could trace the country finding the person who would dare put their foot in it...

Yeah, I'll make sure by the time I leave this prison Prince Charming has no choice but to follow me.

And then we'll both live happily ever after.

* * *

_A/N: 5-1-13: I'm thinking about making a second part... So... this is just a heads up I guess._


	2. The Convict

_A/N: Yay! A second part I never originally said I was going to write! Yay!_

* * *

He's one of those people who catch your eye for all the wrong reasons, and then before you realise it, you're uncontrollably hooked on him, threatening your sanity, your job and even putting your life in danger if anyone found out. However, none of that matters, because he's the only thing in your life that truly matters, and you would risk it all to spend a little alone time with him. It's a thrilling yet terrifying thought.

The first time I noticed him was when he sneezed. This may sound strange, and I'll explain. I happened to be walking past where he always chose to sit with a few select people. They weren't his friends, barely acquaintances; he just found them bearable. Anyway, he sneezed and one of them - out of what I can only comprehend to be basic politeness - uttered the words, 'Bless you.'

Big mistake.

Before anyone knew what was happening he turned into a deranged psychopath, with such hot and raw anger that I thought only existed in books. He attacked the other... with his head! All I could think at that moment was: My god, this man is a mad maniac, but just look at those muscles, that passionate anger on his face, the way his green eyes glow.

Did I break it up? No. It flustered me so much that I had to run to the toilets. Terribly unprofessional, but I'm not really a prison guard so I'll defend that it doesn't matter. Though, it would have been difficult to explain had someone caught me.

'Awfully sorry, sir. I got aroused by one of the prisoners attacking another. In my defence, he's very hot.'

I noticed after that day, to my delight, that he was rather taken with me, and whenever I could, I tried to catch sightings of him. It was hard. He always either gravitated towards the dirty part of the yard, where I had no business going, or his cell, where I also had no business going. I didn't want to blow my cover by doing something out of character for a guard in my position. In hindsight, no one seems to care.

That day in the shower room was heaven. His ass is incredible. I got a better inspection of that later when he very handily got himself sent to solitary. Our encounters have been few since then and none of them have had the possibility to lead to sex, neither of us wanting to risk getting caught. They were just whispered words and silent promises.

Today I've scheduled a special surprise.

I run my keys along the bars of his cell, hitting each one individually to create a musical ringing sound. He groans with annoyance, not bothering to turn around from where he's lying on his bed.

"Who's zere? What ze 'ell do you want?" I raise my eyebrow, placing my hands on my hips. His cell mate glares at me.

"We haven't done anything wrong."

"This doesn't concern you, Boyett," I reply calmly. "I need DeLorne." I can sense that Christophe is grinning now, taking on a completely different reaction when he realises it's me who's come to visit.

He turns around to make eye contact. That wicked green is glowing as he takes me in. His eyes drop down to my hips. "Offizer Williams. What could you possibly want from me?"

Sex.

I maintain eye contact as I push the key into the lock, jiggling it a little bit, before turning it open.

"The Warden wants to see you in his office." I signal him to join me outside the cell. Because the Warden's office is located outside where the prisoners are allowed, I cuff his hands together in front of him. I can almost hear the sexual thoughts running through his warped mind.

"Don't try any funny business," I warn as I relock the cell and take hold of his arm.

"I wouldn't dream of eet," he purrs, just loud enough for me to hear. For this, I make sure I squeeze his arm extra tightly as I lead him to the desired destination. Whatever happens, I must maintain that I am the one who holds all the power. If I even think about giving this prisoner some power then God only knows the disastrous impact it may have.

Though perhaps the impact may be more_ pleasurable_...

I shove him inside when we reach the office and slam the door closed behind me, locking it. I took the liberty of borrowing the key the last time I saw the Warden. When I say _borrowing_, I mean flirting with and getting near enough him to effortlessly take it from his pocket, make a print, and then replace it. I had the key made up et voilà!

"Oh, what a surprise zat ze Warden isn't here," grumbles Christophe.

I chuckle. "Would you like me to fetch him? He's in a meeting right now..."

He smirks and leans closer to me. "Non." I smirk and grab the back of his head, planting a bruising kiss on his lips. He groans and kisses back hungrily. It reminds me of our first kiss, one that only happened after I completely broke him down through sex and his emotions burst out. I sometimes wish that we had the time for gentle kissing, just leaning on him and possibly drifting to sleep on his chest.

I pull away from the kiss and push him towards the Warden's desk. "We don't have long."

"So unlock me quickly zen." I laugh and pull the zip down on his jumpsuit to stroke his chest. It falls off his shoulders and hangs by his wrists, blocked from going further. We have encountered a problem and his smirk shows that he knows this. "Now you're going to 'av to unlock me."

I frown. "No. I could always just get you to suck me off."

He bites his lip and stares into my eyes pleadingly. "I'll be good. I just... please. I _need_ you."

I can't do it. I can't ignore those big eyes. Saying no to him would be like kicking a puppy (and I may be cruel but I would never do that). I reach my hand into my trouser pocket and hesitantly remove the small metal key. He smirks. He's a proven criminal... He's going to do something.

"When I unlock you, you're going to lock me?" I say it in a warning but matter-of-fact tone, like: 'You're going to do this and I advise you that you probably shouldn't'. I don't have a consequence for if he does though, not a negative one anyway. I'm sure he'd find the whole experience rather positive.

"No I'm not."

"Yes, you are." The question is whether I want it.

"Non."

Oh to hell with it.

The moment I release his wrists from their metal cuffs, he twists me around and attaches my wrists together. I knew he would. I wanted him to.

"You are a right bastard. Did you know that?" I growl.

"Oui." He strokes down my spine through my shirt as he bends me over the desk.

"I hope you're not planning on doing what I think you are?"

He laughs. "And what do you theenk I'm going to do?"

"Fuck me over the desk."

"Fuck you over ze desk?" He leans over me and breathes on my neck, his words gravelly in my ear. "Well, eef you insist." I groan and kick backwards but he simply pushes me down harder and presses his body against mine. I can feel his growing hardness through our outfits.

Very smart, officer. Allowing a prisoner to have full power over you. You'd probably get a promotion for that if the Warden found you. Very clever.

"Behave," he threatens, reaching around the front of my trousers to undo my belt. His fingers brush over my crotch and I have no choice but to obey. I hope he doesn't turn out to be a murderer trained to kill me because I just let him take my gun. I hope he doesn't anyway because I'm very fond of him.

He throws my belt to the floor and kicks it out of the way of his feet. The bastard treating my stuff like that. He really is an uncaring, inconsiderate asshole...

But with the way he's touching me, I'm not going to complain.

He rubs down harder on my bulge and I groan, pushing into his hand. I'm desperate for it to happen now. I want him to force my trousers off and fuck me hard in the arse. My cheeks flame red and I'm only glad he can't see the mess I'm soon to become.

Or at least I think until he turns me around and pushes me to my knees. He holds my face roughly in one of his big and calloused hands, forcing me to stare into his eyes - they burn with lust and power. My dick presses tightly against the material of my trousers and I so urgently need to touch it, but with my hands behind my back I'm incapable to do anything. Even getting off the floor quick enough to get away from him would be an impossible task.

"Don't think I've forgotten how _you_ treated_ me_." He licks his lips as if replaying the memory. I narrow my eyes.

"Because I'm greater than you."

"Zat's not what eet looks like right now." He crouches down and slowly unfastens a few buttons from my shirt, making his way down and revealing my chest. "I want to get a proper look at you." He's acting like we have a lot of time. We don't. I gasp as his lips find my pale skin and his tongue trails along.

"Mmmn, not that I don't love this, b-but we don't have long." I try to pull away from him but he just grabs my shoulders and increases the pressure of his kisses, running along the exposed skin and eventually moving to my nipples to bite down harshly. I whimper in pain. He smirks and draws away, standing up once again.

"Okay. You can 'av ze deek you're so 'ungry for... Just suck eet first." He pulls the zip of his jumpsuit down the rest of the way and stepping out of it, throws it to the side. I barely have time to draw breath before my mouth is invaded. I cough and groan in protest but he just knocks my hat off (the bastard) and tangles his fingers in my hair.

I can't say I don't deserve this. And I also can't say that I'm not enjoying it.

I groan again and move my head as much as I can, guided by his hands. He's applying most of the pressure, pushing deeper into the back of my throat until I'm forced to choke. He doesn't release me, just holds my head and commands me not to move.

"Don't choke." But I feel like I'm about to suffocate. "Look at me." But my eyes are watering as I try to find his.

He groans before pulling out and holding my shoulders. "Breathe." And I do take a deep breath as air once again fills my burning lungs. I cough and he wipes my eyes with his thumb, smiling. "Zere, now we're half-way even."

I blink away the rest of the tears and smirk. "So hurry up with the other half."

"As you wish." He holds me under the arms and pulls me up, holding me to his chest. He kisses the back on my head. I smile. That was sweet. He may be an uncaring, inconsiderate asshole, but he has a sweet side that I doubt many see, if any.

It makes me want to learn every detail of his life.

He yanks my trousers down and finally, in the moment I've anticipated for so long, he wraps his fingers around my length. I groan loudly and press my head back into his shoulder.

"Does zat feel good?"

"Y-Yes." I bite my lip as his hand strokes slowly down me, to the tip where he swipes his thumb over and then back up.

"I 'av all ze power don't I?"

I gasp. "Yes." He moves his hands over to take control of my hips and I shudder in anticipation. "Why don't you use it? Use me? Do it now."

I'm slammed back down over the desk, my head narrowly avoiding an abandoned coffee cup on one side and a stapler on the other. I gulp, and the danger only adds to my arousal. He pushes inside me with a crude, desperate force. Our breaths hitch and we groan in unison, mine pained, his pleasured. I clench my fists in their place behind my back and close my eyes. After those first few thrusts, my groans begin to turned pleasured.

Prior to what Christophe may have accused me of, I have never 'offered my ass up' to the Chief, nor would I ever do that to get ahead. I have never allowed anyone this level of control over me. And doing it now, with a prisoner... that's just too ridiculous to comprehend.

I believed it could feel good but I never imagined it would be as thrilling as this.

"Oh God!" My fists are clenched so hard that my nails pierce through my skin. My wrists are trying to pull apart and the metal is digging in, plus this position is delivering an extremely sharp pain in my shoulders.

He bends forward and bites at my collar with his teeth - it's as close to sucking my neck as he can get with me still in this shirt and the impossibility for it to come off without ripping. I hope the starch doesn't taste too horrible, though he should stop abusing my clothes.

I laugh as he pulls away and makes a slight gagging sound. "Serves you right for eating my shirt."

He pushes down on my head with one of his hands. "Shut up." He jerks harshly upwards and hits my prostate. I groan louder, biting my lip to control it. He laughs. "Does zat feel good?"

"Oh yes! Yes!"

"Would you like more?" I feel a hand run through my hair.

"Much more! Please!" I don't even care that I'm reduced to a begging mess. I don't even care that I've momentarily lost all my dominance. I am his and I want more. "_Please_."

He complies, hitting that blissful spot once again. I groan and shake on the table, only wishing I could grip it for support. Instead, I rely on my legs to keep stable and for his once again tight grip on my hips. He groans and his breath becomes erratic. He must be getting closer to his edge. His breath and groans start mixing together into choked grunts and whimpers.

My dick is past and urgent ache now - it's a burning desperation. The bliss I feel when his hot and sticky hand closes around it is close to orgasmic. As his hand pumps and he continues hitting my prostate, I realise that it is just that and these few touches were all I needed.

"O-Oh. I'm going to-"

"Do eet."

I come into his hand with a frenzied and choked groan. This must send him over for he pulls out and also groans loudly, probably trying to catch as much as he can in his hand. I gasp and focus on not falling over. I can sense him wondering where to wipe it and offer my suggestion:

"There's some tissues next to my elbow."

He laughs and walks over, taking a couple from the box and wiping the mess from his hands. "Merci." I stay lying and panting slightly, with my cheek pressed against the polished wood. I don't think I have the energy to push myself up. I wait for him to notice this. He does do, slipping his hands under my chest and pulling me gently up to hold against his chest. I sigh and turn my head to meet his lips. He kisses back softly and I couldn't be in more bliss.

He reluctantly releases me and locates the key from where I dropped it on the floor.

"Okay, offizer, I'm going to grant you your freedom. Don't try anything funny."

I roll my eyes. "Of course not. I would never do anything illegal..." He laughs. We were both doing something illegal barely minutes ago. I bring my wrists in front of me when they are unlocked and rub them. God, they're sore.

But I'm not complaining...

"Now you know what it feels like," he mutters. I grin at him and pull up my trousers before sorting out my shirt.

"Well maybe you shouldn't have committed a crime."

"My only crime was getting caught."

"Then maybe you need to take some lessons from me." I bend down and then thrust some clothing - previously hidden under the desk - at him. "Put these on."

He looks in puzzlement. "Zis ees a police uniform. What good will zis do?"

"Well the tightness of the trousers should accentuate your arse perfectly. Such a sculpted piece of art needs the correct casing."

He glares at me, obviously unimpressed. "Faggot."

I sigh. "You have to put it on because I'm getting you out of here."

"You really think zat zis ees going to work?" He holds up the clothes. "Zey'll easily be able to tell eet's me."

"Not if I can help it."

"Why would you want me to break out?"

I grab his face in my hands. "Because that sex just proved it. Being without you would kill me. I've completed my mission; I now have to follow my target across the country wherever they go, and God damn, Christophe, I want to do all that with you. I can't leave you behind. Now trust me, if you put your faith in me, my plan will work."

He grins, staring into my eyes. I can see excitement bubbling in his. "Okay zen, Preence Charming."

Did he just call me Prince Charming? That's... interesting. I guess I am rather dashing, but still, it seems a bit odd. Surely Prince Charming is meant to be a good guy, and I am really nowhere near an angel. Perhaps he means the fact I'm saving him from this dingy place...

...If the plan works that is.

What am I saying? Of course it will work. I planned it.

I grin smugly as he finishes dressing in the uniform, placing the hat on his head. I reach forward and slant it to the side. He looks so sexy. I'd rip those clothes off right now if we had the time, but we don't. The clock is ticking and I know a perfect secluded bar where I'd rather be, and I'm sure he would too.

"Come on then, Cinderella," I say, slapping him on the ass.


End file.
